Maybe Tomorrow
by Chris4Short
Summary: Damn technology is working against us. Quick oneshot about a day that went wrong at the SGC.


_Ok, so yes, it has been forever since I uploaded anything to In fact it has been almost that long since I wrote anything I could put up here. I started a new job back in July, and now write everyday - as the staff writer on a weekly newspaper. Yeah. So that keeps me occupied. But here is a little diddy I wrote a few months back and just finally finished - it's inspired by a particlarly bad press day when NOTHING was going right... Enjoy!! R&R would be very, very nice!! - Christine_

Maybe Tomorrow

* * *

Sam was sure the sky was falling apart. Everything else was; ergo, the sky was falling too.

Jack, who had 'stopped by' for a short visit, had breezed in earlier that day, dumped a few loads of papers and "can't you make this happen faster?" on the team, but mostly on Sam. He had stood in the doorway chatting at her, asking for her opinion on whether or not his office should be a shade lighter or darker kaki. Sam was not listening and apparently Jack noticed since he left her after trying to rearrange her shelves, fiddle with the loose cords laying around her lab. Sam had to stop what she was doing so Jack could "look" at her downed server connection.

He soon breezed on to someone else's lab and did not come back to disturb her. Which suited Sam fine. Normally she would have loved to have a chat with him, but with the paperwork and the already mounting files she had to deal with, there was not much time to just shoot the breeze with him. In fact, when Daniel came in looking just as frustrated, they looked at each other, smiled, raised their mugs and Daniel wondered back to his lab. It was the longest held conversation she had.

Cam had camped out in her lab, plunking away at his laptop, trying to trace why the network was now backing up all the printing jobs to the point where you had to wait for one job to be done before another was sent even into the queue. He sat quietly, lips together, starring at his screen.

Sam, after lunch, and after Jack had left again, was hunched over the printer, taking out parts and putting the machine back together. She could back engineer complex off world alien devices, so why was a simple copy machine giving her nightmares? She abandoned the printer and decided to find one of her scientists who could print to another printer. Why not just bypass the printer, or better yet, get everyone in the nation on email and not waste time waiting for printouts? Finally she found someone and figured out how to configure the network that was working, to let Sam transfer files to a computer so later she could print them.

Vala came by. Vala left. Jack once more wondered in and took the completed projects, only to realize it was not any of his stuff. It was week old telemetry and report printouts that was shoved into the wrong pile. Finally Sam just told him that he would have to wait; no she could not give a finished time, and no, at that point in all the network and printing fiasco, she did not care that it would not be making the 5pm deadline.

Coffee break. Daniel was coming and Sam desperately was tearing through her drawers in hopes of finding one bottle of aspirin that actually had aspirin in it. As Daniel came to sit on a stool by the work bench, she was neatly stacking the empty containers into a pyramid, shaking each container once more to make sure she did not miss a pill.

"I got a call from the Pentagon," Daniel said finally, staring at the white bottles and red lids.

"Why didn't they ask O'Neill? He is their lesion," Sam asked, turning her head slightly.

"Who knows. Maybe they figured he wouldn't know what's going on."

Sam chuckled, grabbing her temples and digging her fingers into her flesh. "What made them think you did?"

"That's what I asked."

"And they just said 'finish it – meeting is in 0200 hours'?"

Daniel hung his head and smiled. "Exactly."

"Damn technology is working against us."

"It's the machines."

"They have taken over."

"Damn them all."

Sam sat up and reached toward another drawer. Rustling through the contents, she came up with a new, still sealed bottle of aspirin. _Bingo_, she thought. Shaking two out, she handed it over to Daniel. Quickly gulping the pills and water down, Sam once more laid her head on her arms.

"Hey guys – oh," Cam's voice said, breaking the silence that had descended over the two scientists. Sam looked up and over Daniel's head to see Cam standing in the doorway, looking like he was debating whether or not to continue his news.

"What is it?" Sam prompted, sitting up.

Cam flashed a smile and bounded into the room. "The printer guy came and fixed the problem. The networking geniuses all were working on some system in NORAD which knocked us down. But we are now up and working."

"That's great. I guess now I can resend my 50 page report to the printer," Daniel sighed as he stood up.

"As long as you don't use up all the colored ink; I have at least 25 pages of diagrams," Sam said, stretching.

Cam looked between the two of them. "It's just the recap of some old mission reports."

"It's for Congress," Sam said.

"Oh. Congress. Ah… well, save some ink for me too then."

Vala came in as well and stood beside him. "I don't think finger drawing is what they want, darling."

Sam raised an eyebrow as she passed Cam. "Expanding from coloring pencils?"

"Oh you should see his crayon work," Daniel quipped as he followed. "Mitchell's the next Picasso."

"Har, har," Cam said, mockingly. "Let's just get the stuff printed, shall we?"

"Can we tell the people up in NORAD to not do anymore networking?" Sam asked, coming into the print room.

Cam gave a small sigh and sat in the plastic seat, staring at the wall. "Who knows. As long as this printing thing gets done and delivered on time, I don't care if cows jump over the moon."

Sam looked up from the printer and hung her head. "Gawd this day has gone from bad to worse." Three pairs of eyes turned to her questioning. "We have no paper."

"Oh." Daniel dropped his head and shook it, despairingly.

The four of them walked back out to their separate offices, just waiting for the next day; perhaps tomorrow would be better.


End file.
